The room was dim,infact it was always dim. Felicia tried to adjust her eyes to the partly dark room ,it smelt of cheap gin,dirt and death.
Yes,this room where she’d lived for ten years with her two siblings; Cheta and Maggie, her frail mother and an abusive step-father. She could remember days of trying to make the room clean and livable,only to have it scattered, clothes strewn everywhere,her twelve year old sister maggie would smear her paint everywhere as though her canvas and drawing pad weren’t enough,stepfather’s empty bottles of Chelsea gin would always make cheta throw up ,his cigarette stubs would liter the floor.
And one day it had almost burnt down the floor room.
Felicia’s gaze fell on the frame that hung on the wall facing her. It held a picture of her,her smiling mother lapping Maggie and sitting beside her father,a dark skinned handsome man,with a broad chest,pratician features and an ever smiling lips, he was holding cheta to his side , who looked glum. Felicia could remember why, he’d been denied sweets, minutes before the photo was taken.
Her father had died five years later from a coronary,and they’d had to move to this ghetto from the suburbs due to her mother’s illness that had cost a lot for medication.
Stepfather had come months later, and Felicia had despised him on the first day she saw him. He’d looked nothing like the saviour they’d desperately needed, looking very ratty and seedy from head to toe.
Felicia tried to block out those horrible days of strife,poverty, pain and forced responsibility.
So she’d come to reconcile with her past and walking over cobwebs and other obstacles,she unhooked the frame from the wall , the glass had cracks and the back was thickly coated with dusty cobwebs.
Before she left the room, she rembered one last thing: hitting him on the head, dragging her frail mother and shaken siblings and into a new world where they’d survived.